


Killer Instinct

by TheRomulanEmbassy



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Surgeon General recommended, This is role reversal AU flavour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-25 04:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRomulanEmbassy/pseuds/TheRomulanEmbassy
Summary: As Julian lied his way to the far, far summit of freedom, he reassured himself that where it counted the most, he was an honest man. It didn't help his moral integrity that between himself and said freedom was Terok Nor, and Gul Garak, and the mercy of Section 31. He would survive no matter what, and if his steadfast and unrelenting attitude made him a target, he would not falter.____DS9 AU:What if the Prophets never returned and Cardassia never left?What if the small choices that one makes end up changing the course of one's life?





	1. All the Grandest Adventures Start in a Prison Cell

The cold, cold liquid, oddly enough, burned as it made its way through his arm and to his bloodstream. It was not lost on him that the nurse injecting him at the moment was in all actuality just killing him, instead just putting him under, for what Sloan described as  _ ‘transport’? _

Despite himself, he had asked the man  _ why _ he was being put under, and it had tuned out that the less he knew about the mission, apart from the objective of the mission itself, was unnecessary information. Sloan had stated that with or without his consent they would take whatever risk to his life necessary to minimise liabilities. 

It was not lost on him that he was more or less an owned man, risking it all for the slim promise of freedom...on the other hand, he felt that he was already free, free of the burden of having to hide from others - from his own people and his own kind, at least, from the people that mattered. 

Section 31 had not at all hesitated to leap at the opportunity - a genetically enhanced human, more or less  _ normal-human-death _ proof on a Cardassian base, gathering information for the betterment of the Federation and Starfleet at large - especially now that the Cardassians may be turning their sights on Federation territory? They could not pass that up. They would  _ absolutely not  _ pass that up. 

Unless, he was simply becoming delirious from the lack of sleep from the past weeks, unless the nurse of whom he did not know neither name nor spices was just another agent putting him under or killing him or whatever else horror Sloan would conjure up. 

The weight of certainty only hit him when he came to, on what he assumed was a Cardassian prison transport, faced with the intense gaze of whom he assumed to be a very bruised and bloody, very angry Bajoran woman. 

“We don't see many of your kind here,” she said, voice steady despite the bruising, “did you kill someone important?” 

Her directness startled him, and he was entirely unsure on how to respond - Sloan had not exactly trained him to handle any situation he may encounter as a covert agent -  _ none _ whatsoever, and he did feel like a lumbering idiot at the moment, brain still  _ very _ addled with whatever drug it was that the nurse had put in him - well, he did have an inkling of what it was, but his brain could just not  _ remember. _

“If you suspect that I killed someone,” he began, hoping with all his will, broken as it was, that he did not say the wrong thing and get himself killed  _ before _ he got to Terok Nor, “why would you risk approaching me?” 

The Bajoran woman laughed - a deep guttural laugh, too. It did wonders for the tall - and Julian was not sure how -  _ Neanderthal _ looking Cardassian guarding them and the rest of the section, as he lumbered toward them like an angry bear, except scaly and much more concerning than a mere and simple bear, lowering the prison bars of sickly yellow light, and stepping into the room. 

The Cardassian raised a massive fist toward the woman, ready to strike. Julian could simply not abide by this. True, the Cardassian was the size of a small asteroid, true that his chances of success were meagre and slim, and his chances of actual  _ death _ fat and glutton on his history of various misfortunes, but some things he simply could not abide by. 

He kicked the Cardassian with all the strength he could muster in his legs, despite the lingering drug in his system, and much to his surprise the giant slammed against the metal wall right above the woman, his lip splitting, blood running all over his uniform and, much to Julian’s shame, all over the Bajoran. 

Through Julian's eyes, the next things happened in slow motion, the giant rising, gathering himself, the fist previously aimed at the Bajoran now squarely and surely aimed at his head. 

It stopped hurting, Julian counted, after about the eighth blow, through his senses that were impeded by the drug and the sheen of his own blood, he could hear the woman screaming and yelling abuse at the Cardassian, as well as another voice that he had not heard before. 

By some mercy, the blows stopped. 

“You're insane, you're insane!” the woman kept saying. He felt himself being unchained from his seat and being on the floor. The new voice was telling him to calm down - as if that were possible. 

“You have always been soft, Parmak.” 

The gargantuan had a voice after all, deep and very, very ugly. 

“These prisoners are for Gul Garak’s  _ personal _ reserve. Will  _ you  _ tell him that you killed one out of petty rage or shall  _ I _ ?”

Julian, his sight obscured, felt rather that saw the newer Cardassian’s hesitation, and heard the man grunt and leave the room - or cell, rather. The Cardassians were not grand on luxury. 

“Human, can you hear me?” this Cardassian was Julian's favourite Cardassian so far, much nicer than the previous one…granted he has only the second Cardassian he had ever met. 

“Loud and clear, more emphasis on the former rather than the latter.” Julian tried to sit up, but was prevented by Parmak. 

“You're lucky,” he said, “not many that cross Darn live longer than the reach of his fist. You have made an enemy today.” 

Julian, despite himself, snickered. Parmak ran the medical scanner over him again. 

“Did you say his name was  _ Darn _ ? That is… truly unfortunate. For the both of us.” 

Parmak rose from the ground and lifted Julian along with him. 

“Rest now and take whatever comfort you can from your victory today. You will not find many where we are going.” Parmak’s voice could have sombred up a funeral. 

He helped Julian back onto his seat, chaining his hands again, before he injected him with a hypo-regenerant, and wordlessly left. 

“So, tell me Killer,” the woman spoke, having watched the whole thing in near silence this far, “what  _ did _ you do?” 

“I will tell you,” Julian said, “after you tell me your name.” 

The woman adjusted herself in her seat, and leaned as close to him as her bindings allowed her to. 

“My name Kira. Now speak up.” 

Julian leaned in as well. 

“I beat and changed a man so much that he resembled another,” he said, “and as he was chained and hidden away I made him live someone else's life, as if it were his own.” 

Kira leaned back into her seat, and smirked.

“Maybe you'll survive Terok Nor after all, Killer.”

___

FIN

___


	2. A King Among Paupers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoiler alert*
> 
> Panic attack in this chapter, in case you are uncomfortable reading something like that.

Parmak handed the briefing to Garak, and stood perfectly still as he regarded the Gul with some amount of trepidation. 

“Did he survive?” Garak asked, going over the briefing, in a manner that any other being other than Kelas Parmak would assume would be disinterest. 

“The human did not sustain any life threatening injuries, Gul. Quite extraordinary, for all the effort Darn put into it.” 

Garak, very lightly, placed the padd on his desk and gestured for Kelas to sit. 

“Tell me Dr. Parmak. What should I do about Darn’s display of disloyalty?” 

Kelas could not bring an answer, despite the knowledge that as always, Garak was testing him. It was a core aspect of his essence, Parmak felt, that he would place the ones around him in such impossible situations. 

“Shall I have him exiled, shall I have him executed?” Garak’s expression and demeanour did not change as he spoke, “Shall I send some of my friends to find his lovely wife and young son?” 

Garak’s simple raise of brow offered challenge. It was no wonder the man was so paranoid, even for a Gul.

“You do not have any friends, Elim, and when you are like this, I barely like you.” There, Kelas had appeased the Gul by offering words that he would never utter in any other circumstance. 

“Parmak, my old friend. You make it too easy.” the tension dissolved from Kelas, from his shoulders all the way to his entire being. He had passed the test, this time, like an almost infinite number of times before.

“I will see to Darn, you need not concern yourself with the less savoury details.” with a seeming afterthought that was entirely deliberate, Garak told Parmak to take the human back to the med bay. 

“Give him a thorough examination, Kelas,” he said, “bring him when you are done.” 

Kelas repressed a sigh as he left. Without having met the human Garak had already decided that he was worth at least  _ some _ of his time. It could only mean that he had found a use for him. 

\---

If the very concept of discomfort could express itself in a tangible form, Julian was sure that he was its current representation. He found out that, unsurprisingly the Cardassians did not believe in the use of any form of anaesthesia in their medical procedures. He didn't want to call Parmak a barbarian to his face however, seeing as the doctor had saved his life, and seeing as the doctor was currently the one tending to his injuries. 

Life was just  _ full _ to the  _ brim _ with coincidences, fortunate and otherwise. 

“You heal remarkably well, Bashir. You have sustained no permanent damage.” Julian looked over his own scans, discerning what he could from the starkly alien layout of them. Parmak was right, there were no indications of permanent harm, no broken bones, no intracranial bleeding, no torn muscles and ligaments, just Bashir’s wounded sense of self. 

“I expect you will be ready to work, given some rest.”

Rest was the furthest thing from his mind, the concept of it so jarring that it caused him to recoil. 

“Are all the other prisoners given rest when they are injured?” Julian asked the doctor, his voice dripping with doubt. 

“No. But you are not like the other prisoners Bashir, are you?” 

Ugly realisation dawned on him at that moment. Dr. Parmak, and most certainly this Gul Garak and every other Cardassian on the station knew that he was an augment. He might have just as easily painted a target on his back. The Medbay, already dark and stifling hot, felt like it was shrinking around him. 

“It is good that Gul Garak knows this now. Some truths are inevitable, Bashir, and Garak is not kind to those who keep secrets from him.”

Julian was at a loss, trapped between the inevitable and the impossible. Perhaps this was, after all Sloan’s twisted execution. 

“What does it mean for me, then?” he asked Parmak as if the doctor would have an insight into his own struggles. 

“For now,” Parmak said, pressing this and that into the replicator, “it means that you will survive the night.” 

Parmak handed Julian a pile of clothes and guided him towards what he assumed was a washroom - or the  _ Cardassian _ version of a washroom, just a room with a sonic shower he had yet to learn how to operate. 

“Gul Garak will see you when you are finished. He will not wait for you.” 

Parmak slid the door shut, leaving him in near darkness. Part of him knew that he should be getting ready - possibly at a breakneck speed, to speak to the Gul. The other part of him, the stronger part, left him unable to even flinch from his current position. 

His breaths came short and shallow, his body was covered in a cold sheen of sweat and the room spun and spun. He tried and tried to get the damned door to open - the room was swallowing him, but the  thing would not budge. 

He collapsed, back pressed hard against the door, whispering frantically to himself -  _ why won't it open why won't it open _ \- in a rash motion he activated the shower, tearing at his bloodstained dirty clothes - they too were strangling him. 

He allowed himself to find some comfort in the constancy of the waves, as they hit his bare skin one by one, in a perpetual cycle. 

His skin was almost raw from them, when he was finally able to stand and gather himself. His breathing resembling somewhat its normal state, he dressed himself as best he could, in the clearly Cardassian-shaped attire. 

He heard a knock through the door. 

“Bashir,” he could have sworn that Parmak was  _ concerned _ , “I will open the door now.” 

So, the thing was locked all along, Bashir realised, he also realised that Parmak had been witness to his… theatrics. 

“Feeling better?” Parmak asked, knowingly. 

“I’ve never felt better in my entire life, Dr. Parmak.”

Thankfully, the doctor did not choose to press him on the matter - whatever the matter with him was.

“Excellent, of you follow me I will escort you to Gul Garak.” 

_ “You _ will escort me?” he asked the doctor, as he tried without succeeding to fix the cuffs of his shirt. 

“Yes Bashir, just another of the  _ many _ perks of being Gul Garak’s personal physician. Here - let me?” 

Dr. Parmak managed to fix the damned cuffs, at least now the sleeves of the shirt reached  _ almost _ all the way down to his wrists. The doctor gestured for Julian to follow him, whoever this Garak was, Julian did not want to keep him waiting any longer. 

 

\---

FIN

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao Garak u jerk


	3. A Spook for Hire

Julian’s heart had relocated itself from beating up a storm in his chest to land right at the base of his throat. 

Parmak had left him in Gul Garak’s office, and as far as he could see, Gul Garak’s office could very comfortably house a small family, although some of its grandeur was lost in the dim, heavy darkness of it. 

“You are very far from home, Dr. Bashir.” Julian turned his head - so fast that he thought briefly that he might have snapped his own neck, to a person shaped shadow with very stark  _ unexpectedly _ blue eyes. 

“You must be Gul Garak, I've heard much about you.” 

Garak emerged from the shadows and stepped into the light - his smile made Julian feel  _ strange. _

“ _ Have _ you, Doctor? You must tell me what you have heard.” Garak approached him and began eyeing him, top to bottom - not attempting subtlety by any stretch of the imagination, “I will have my tailors make you something more fitting. I cannot have my physicians looking like derelicts.” 

Julian  _ definitely _ felt strange now. 

“Perhaps the rumors about Terok Nor were exaggerated, Gul Garak, or maybe I am unaccustomed to Cardassian prison camps.” 

Garak’s smile deepend, and so did Bashir’s confusion, and now it was joined with a very small spark of  _ anger. _ Garak pulled out a chair for Bashir, and hesitantly Bashir sat, never removing his eyes from the Gul. 

“Do not make me ask you again, Doctor. What did you hear?” Garak pulled up a chair next to Julian's, and waited for Julian to speak, in Julian's opinion in the same manner in which one watches a child that has just learned how to speak. The spark of anger grew into a steady flame of indignation. 

“I heard that people rarely survive their trip here, and when they do they are treated back-breaking work, and when they are no longer able to work, they are put down like  _ animals.” _

Julian felt heat rise up to his face, as his fists clenching tight the fabric on his lap, while Garak’s expression never changed. 

“I heard that those who so much as slight you disappear in the middle of the night, never to be heard from again, that you are proud, and  _ cruel _ and remorseless.”

He could not speak any more. His breaths, not for entirely understood reasons, were coming short and shallow as before, but this time it was  _ not _ because of panic. Garak, from the looks of it was perfectly happy to let the silence hang. Julian felt strange. He felt  _ strange. _

“Such intriguing stories, Doctor. Which do  _ you _ believe?” 

Julian was sure that his sharp intake of breath had given him away. Perhaps he knew, if possible, even  _ less _ than nothing about Terok Nor and about Garak. 

“We shall have to see if your opinion improves over time, Doctor. In the meantime you will be assisting Dr. Parmak in his medical duties, am I being understood?” 

Garak leaned in closer to Julian, “Am I being understood, Doctor?” he asked, his voice lower than before. 

“Why am I not with the other prisoners?” Julian managed to ask the Cardassian.

“You and I both know that you are not like the other prisoners, Doctor. You will certainly see things that others would not even begin to fathom.”

Realisation dawned on Julian. He was to be Garak’s  _ spy. _ It almost defied his comprehension. It almost made him burst out into hysterical laughter. 

Trapped between the impossible and the inevitable. “I imagine that if I should refuse, I too will disappear in the dead of night?” 

If Garak were human, Julian would have said that he had raised an eyebrow. 

“What horrors could the dead of night bring, that you have not already experienced Doctor, for a man such as yourself?” Julian swallowed, very hard, fresh tension coiling itself around him. 

“Taken by the Maquis, taken by the Cardassians… I

I am offering you a chance to fight back, within the extent of my power and yours.”

_ Ah, _ well. That was the story that Sloan had fabricated for him. A Maquis war criminal. It almost made too much sense. 

“What should I look for?” he found it very hard to believe that anyone on the station would go so far as to risk  _ overtly _ challenging Garak, such as he was. 

“You will know when you see it.” 

Julian nodded, not certain  why he did that or if the Cardassian would even understand the gesture. Nevertheless, Garak looked very much like a man who had gotten exactly what he wanted. 

“Are you hungry, Doctor?” the question startled Julian, and it also reminded him of the fact that he had not eaten anything aside from the prison transport rations for the past week. Logic would have dictated that Garak offer him to sweeten the deal,  _ before _ he accepted...with as little choice as he had. 

“If you insist.” Julian said.

“I do indeed.”

 

\---

FIN

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian my son.... pull yourself together Julian.

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm sooooo.... this story idea would not leave me alone OK. Does not help at ALL that I started my own personal mission - Code Name: Trek phase 2, re-watch everything, and started with DS9.
> 
> As always, the inspiration goblins thrive on kudos and comments - so let me know how you feel about the story! 
> 
> Thank you <3


End file.
